Faithful Companion
by ThatAnonymousWriter
Summary: (Ser Royland Degore X Reader) You've been training for two months as a soldier under the guidance of Ser Royland Degore, sentinel of Lord Rodrik and knight commander of the Forrester guard. You've exceeded all of your fellow troops, and caught Ser Royland's eye. What story will unfold? (Telltale Game of Thrones, set after episode 2 and onwards)
1. Chapter 1: I Was Right About You

"Well done today! Again." Royland sheathes his sword, and then rubs his temples. "Honestly, sometimes I think you're the only one who's actually improving." You let out a light chuckle. "I sincerely doubt that. You're a good teacher, Ser." Royland shakes his head.

"If that were the case, half of our lads would know how to block and strike in unison by now." You shake your head. Despite what others said about him, Royland truly was a kind, caring, and considerate man. Yes, his training was hard and gruelling, and yes, he did have a harsh tongue when it came to his recruits' screw ups, but it was only because he was frustrated at this point. He'd been training the current men for three to six months, as they come and go, and none of them had improved within that time to deserve merit. You had been training under the watchful eye and skilful example of Ser Royland for only two months, and whenever he taught you something new, you would master it in a day or less, succeeding various sparring partners among the garrison.

However, many of the other recruits argued (in secret, of course) that Royland was going easy on you, because you were the only girl who had offered her assistance. The sentinel was reluctant at first; you were a young lass who'd barely held a sword till two months prior, but when he beared witness to the fire of determination shining in your eyes, Royland knew that he could not refuse.

"I appreciate how willing you are to learn, (Y/N). Are you sure you've not fought till now?" You nodded happily, feeling flattered that your teacher had noticed how naturally you'd adapted to swordplay.

"Oh well, no matter. Although at this rate, in a month or two I would've taught you everything I know." You stop yourself from scraping the ground with your foot - a nervous habit that Royland had noticed, but had decided not to comment upon.

"If you don't mind me asking, Ser, what will happen then?" You'd never admit it, but you had grown fond of your teacher and his iron-fisted yet nurturing nature. If your regimen were to change after mastering all the techniques you'd been taught, you'd rather screw up and not improve at all. This way, you would still get to see Royland daily for 10 hours or so, even if he was not directly addressing you. He would allow an hour for a warm up every morning starting from 8am, which also gave opportunity for the latecomers to arrive. The knights were allowed to warm up in any way they saw fit, whether it be sparring or using a training dummy.

At 10 o'clock, Royland would harmlessly demonstrate a new technique using a volunteer, which the members of the guard were expected to mimic using a partner. At 10:45, there was a break for food or going to the latrine, which lasted half an hour. At first, you sat with the rest of the recruits, but as time went on, their jealousy glimmered through, as noticeably less and less people talked to you. Eventually, you resorted to sitting by yourself, eating alone. Sometimes the children in the village would come and talk to you, asking about your training, and if you'll train them, or if you had a crush on any of the other guards; or if you wanted to play tag or catch or hide and seek. You appreciated their company, as it did sometimes get lonely, but it didn't affect you that much, and you did, on occasion, enjoy having some quality time to yourself.

Ser Royland seemed the same, actually. He would never sit with other people, and the only person he would talk to was Rodrik, always fretting over him and checking whether he was okay. This side was unexpected of a man such as Royland, with his rugged, scar-covered face and stern tone of voice - but it was overlooked by the men who worked in his garrison.

Lunch was at 1:45 every afternoon, and lasted 45 minutes. But from there onward, till 6 o'clock (where the session ended and dinner was served), everyone had to ask Royland personally if they wished to be dismissed, whether it was to get a cup of water or leave for the nearest latrine.

Royland was always encouraging those under his command to work together and help each other, but most of them could not even carry their own weight with the unrelenting training regimen. He spends 20 minutes with each man every day, trying to help them to improve their posture or grip, or speed or power; but most of the time, it seemed to go into one ear and out of the other. But you were different.

"Once you have mastered all I have to teach, you'll be able to aid me in my tutelage and help the men improve their swordsmanship, if that is what you'd wish." Trying to hide your excitement as much as possible, you replied. "Of course, Ser. It would be an honour." Royland gave you a strong pat on the back, albeit awkwardly - as if he was afraid of bruising you or offending you in some way - then he let out a hearty laugh. In fact, this was the first time you'd heard him laugh since training to become a knight of House Forrester, knowing all too well about his serious nature. "Any other recruit, and they would've been knocked on their ass by now. I knew I was right about you."


	2. Chapter 2: Best Recruit Yet

"Alright, lads! It's time for a break. Be back in half an hour. Do what you see fit."

As the other recruits walked away, you were the last to follow. You'd taken the hint now that they weren't exactly fond of you, and you didn't really look forward to the breaks at all; although lunch wasn't too bad; on the days you remembered to actually bring it.

You sat in your usual spot, by a tree just on the outskirts of town. You liked to relax and look at the clouds, or just take time to think. On occasion, you'd focus on honing your attack and defense skills. Today was one of those days.

Sometimes, practising was the only escape that could take your mind off of things. Above all, you wanted to become strong for yourself, so that you could defend yourself and all that you held dear, as well as showing everyone that women were capable fighters - sometimes even more so than men. Although a part of you also wanted to do well to impress Royland. You knew he tried his best to be a good teacher - and he was, if people just listened and mimicked him properly - but you wanted to show him how much potential you had, and maybe even surpass him.

You were lost in thought, swinging your blade into a training dummy repetitively, using different techniques and angles. However, your focus perished as you felt a large shadow loom over you. Turning white in the face, you held a defensive stance, doing a 180, only to meet the pale coffee-coloured eyes of your abecedary.

"I didn't realise you were so dedicated; keep it up. Your practise shows through more and more every day." You try to conceal your blush, casually wiping your face with your hand.

"Thank you very much, Ser."

"Don't thank me, (Y/N). You're the one putting in the extra work, not me." Royland retrieved a monochrome handkerchief from behind his back, that he'd evidently been hiding since he'd walked in. You accepted it gracefully, and thanked him, noticing it had the House Forrester sigil imprinted in the right hand corner.

You shake your head and sigh, mopping your brow with the handkerchief. "We both know that's not true, Royland. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't even know these techniques."

When you peered at his face next, you saw something you'd have never expected!

Royland was blushing!

"Are you alright, Ser? You seem to have gone red in the face." Bringing attention to it only deepened his blush. "Yes, it's just that... No one other than Rodrik refers to me by… my name." Oh no! Did you offend him? Wait. When did you even say that? A simple slip of the tongue was all it took. "I'm so sorry, Ser, please forgive me! I didn't mean to refer to you so disrespectfully, I-"

Royland shook his head, and held a gloved finger to your lips. "It's fine. I don't hate it or anything. It's just something I'm not used to. You can keep using it, if you want to... I don't mind."

Did this really just happen?

"I... Okay then. But what do you prefer to be called?"

"Just 'Royland' is acceptable. For you, at least." An amused smirk tugged on the corner of your lips.

"Is that so? What have I done to earn this privilege, exactly?"

"Well, you are always punctual and do your best during training - and outside of training too, it seems. I daresay you're my best recruit yet." The use of 'yet' made you feel a bit disheartened, but at that moment, he was using such a calm, mellow tone that you had never heard him use before, which, despite being surprising, made you happy. You dared hope this was a sign he was comfortable around you - or perhaps more.

"Thank you very much, Se- Royland." He chuckled again, and awkwardly itched the back of his neck. "Well, break's over now. We'd better leave before tongues start to wag." You laugh at that. "I'm sure they already have."

The knight commander shrugged. "Good point."


	3. Chapter 3: Bread and Cheese

You decided to sit somewhere different for lunch. It was a beautiful day, and the only thing that could be heard was the soft breeze caressing the trees. Sitting alone under the sun was pleasant, as it was not too hot nor too cold. With your bread and cheese in hand, and a tankard of water by your side, you enjoyed the calming atmosphere and time to yourself. Your thoughts brought you back to your encounter with Ser Royland earlier that morning. He'd never taken interest in what you did outside of training till now. Perhaps he wanted to become more acquainted, and this was his way of doing so? Trying not to get your hopes up too high, you looked up at the sky. One of the clouds looked like Royland's sword, which brought an absentminded smile to your face.

Hearing heavy footsteps across the ground brought your attention to the 5'10" stature of your instructor. "That's the second time you've crept up on me today, Royland."

"Not very successfully, if you noticed me before I got to scare you." Royland approached at an even pace, stopping in front of you. "May I?" He asked, gesturing to the space beside you on the old bench.

"Of course." You nodded, and self-consciously moved further to the edge to make space for him. "There's no need for that, (Y/N). There was already plenty of space." Little did he know that you more anxious at the prospect of him sitting next to you, rather than how much space he had.

What if your legs _touched_? It was unlikely as ever, but the idea still nerved you. You'd never been this close to him before, apart from combat; and that was completely different. You didn't have time to ponder things such as closeness when your main aim was to hit your target, whether they were stationary or not - handsome, or not.

"Bread and cheese?! You can't possibly expect to get enough energy from bread and cheese!" cried Royland when he saw your lunch. You shrugged dismissively. "I get by."

"Wait here." He stood up, heading towards the food hall. You sighed as you were alone again, cursing at yourself for being so awkward around him. Sad, but also glad he'd left, you finished up your bread and cheese, and started to finish off your water. It may not have seemed like much, but it was all you could afford, and it was still more than some other members of the garrison got, so you didn't complain. Royland had told you to wait, but where had he gone? There was a latrine in the food hall, so perhaps there? You didn't want to ask though, for obvious reasons.

There was still thirty minutes of the lunch break left, and you didn't know what to do. The wind had gotten more chilly in the past fifteen minutes or so, and the sun did not beam down upon you as strongly. Despite your heavy plated armour, you began to shiver unceremoniously. Once again, you were glad to be alone. If any of the other guards were to see you like this now, you had no doubt that at least one of them would make a cutting remark. None of them thought highly of you because you were a woman. Any skill or other quality that would usually be seen as redeeming for a man was overlooked, because the slightest thing you did was judged harshly.

For example, whenever you did better than the other troops in training - which was exceedingly often - rumours would spread about you and the commander, other trainee knights spouting things like "she received extra training in the night because he felt sorry for her", and that was one of the more savoury fabrications.

This was another reason why, despite your small flame for the sentinel of House Forrester, you felt uneasy when he approached you as an individual. This would only add more fuel to the scandalous fire, and despite your stoically hidden joy, you were afraid of the commander singling you out, and getting closer to you - even if it was in the name of combat. More lies of his favouritism towards you were bound to spring up, and you knew that they were untrue - just needless chatter created by jealous little boys.

Flinching as you felt a tap on your shoulder, you were pulled from your spaced out world, only to be greeted with the worried expression of Ser Royland. "Are you alright?" He asked, clearly concerned. "Yes, thank you." was your robotic reply. Deciding not to press any further, Royland offered you his hand. This was a shocking gesture, until you noticed the even more surprising fact that he had something in his hand. Multiple things, in fact.

A plate carried an onion tart and freshly cooked rabbit leg. As the aroma filled your nostrils, you fought back the urge to drool. "Here," Royland gestured for you to hold out your hands, and placed the warm plate on top of your steel and leather-clad hands. "Is this for me?" You asked, dumbstruck. Royland nodded awkwardly, nervously itching the back of his neck. "Well, yes."

Your eyes widened. No one besides your parents had gone so out of their way for you before - and you hadn't seen them since you left Winterfell. "I - Thank you, Ser-"  
"Royland." he corrected.

"Royland - sorry - I am extremely grateful for the gesture, however, I am well aware that meals are only catered for each individual soldier, and assuming that this is your portion, I cannot accept." He scrunched up his nose at that. "But you must. I am your knight commander, and I am giving you an order. Eat."  
Refusing to back down, you still argued. "Can we at least share?" Taking a few moments to ponder the action, Royland shook his head. "I have a heavy breakfast every morning, so I do not require it."

Noticing his eyes shift, you sigh. "You don't have to lie to me, Royland. I've already eaten, and as our commander, it would cause problems if you were to collapse or become ill from skipping meals." Shaking his head in irritation, the master-at-arms' eyes darkened with anger.  
"You underestimate me, girl. I've never known someone to decline a gift of goodwill so strongly." A cold shiver traveled up your spine and you broke out in a cold sweat. You were as stubborn as an ox, but it had never been your intention to upset him.

Seeing the expression of fear clear upon your face, Royland was forced to give up the rouse, and burst out into amused laughter. Confused, you raised an eyebrow at him. "You should really see your expression right now! I got you!" Clenching his stomach, he continued to giggle. You never would've guessed your commander had this side to him. "I won't comment on how you thought I'd get angry over your concern, but I will say this; thank you. You figured me out. I'm impressed, if not a little disappointed in myself for giving up so early."  
Casually sitting beside you, Royland tore off a part of the onion tart's crust. "I will gratefully accept your offer. But I'll be making sure you eat at least half of it." Nodding, you did the same, resisting the urge to shove him for teasing you.


	4. Chapter 4: Handkerchief

It had been ten months since you'd started working for the House Forrester guard. Two months ago, you had been granted the position of deputy commander by your superior, Ser Royland Degore, and the Lord of House Forrester, Rodrik Forrester. The gossiping of troops had died down almost completely over the months, and many of them respected you, recognising that you possessed incredible skill, and it was not just favouritism that had earned you your position. Those who were still bitter were dismissed by the other troops, and are now far too scared to mention any of their new rumours or schemes to get you demoted in your presence - or the presence of any Forrester, for that matter. You had become popular among the House, and had formed a friendship with Talia Forrester, who was now nearing sixteen years of age.  
She wants to become a soldier of the guard one day, after being inspired by your courage, strength and endurance. Hesitant at first, her elder brother and Lord of the House, Rodrik, gave her permission to join the guard once she turns eighteen. For now, you spent your spare time training and sparring with her. She had improved greatly in just two months, which reminded you of yourself. Perhaps she would even surpass you someday, and become the knight commander of the guard. However, for now, you were fine with your current position and title.  
It had just turned seven o'clock in the evening, and you were waiting for Talia in your usual spot in the woods. A few moments later, you heard a rustling, coming from some foliage, situated to your right. Unsheathing your greatsword - which had been a gift that was gratefully received from Royland - you held it out to the side, pointing directly at the bush. "Who goes there?" You asked, in a low and intimidating tone.

Hearing a ferocious roar, you tried your best to hide your internal panic, as something jumped out from the underbrush!

Feeling an impact on top of you, you fell to the ground. There was a delay until you noticed that your arm had been pushed aside, and you had nearly dropped your weapon.

"Surprise, (Y/N)!"

You groaned irritably, and covered your face with your free hand in disapproval. "You really need to stop scaring me like that, Talia. For your own safety." The fact that you were annoyed just made her giggle.  
"Don't lie, (Y/N), you like it when I scare you. Besides, it helps you work on your reflexes." Refusing to argue with the young Forrester, you stood up and brushed yourself off.  
"Now, for your training." Talia smiled.  
"(Y/N), as much as I love your training, what about you?" You quirked an eyebrow at her cryptic question. "I mean, I've known you nearly three months, but I don't really _know_ you. What do you like to do in your free time?"  
"Train you." You replied emotionlessly.  
"Other than that, silly. You must have hobbies." You shrugged awkwardly.  
"I suppose I do, but my only hobbies really are training and scaring the new recruits." She laughed at that. "Very funny, (Y/N). But how about you add 'swooning over Ser Royland' to that list, hmm?" Feeling your face redden, you casually moved your hair, hiding your face with your hands. "What in all of Westeros do you mean, Talia?"  
Smiling impishly, she grasps your free hand, and holds it up to her lips. _"A kiss for my favourite deputy commander. I of course mean you, darling (Y/N)."_ You cringed and pulled your hand away at Talia's joking action and poor impression of a deep voice. "He does _not_ sound like that!" You snapped.  
"A-ha! But you didn't deny wanting your dear knight commander to do that to you!" Sighing, you sheathed your greatsword, then sat down on a fallen log, mopping your brow with a handkerchief you retrieved from your pocket. Sometimes, Talia was a handful; but not annoyingly so. At least, not _always_. You raised your head as you heard your companion squeal in delight.  
"What is it now?" You asked.

"That handkerchief! It has the Forrester crest on it! It's one of a kind! Oh my gosh, (Y/N)! Where did you get it?" You paled slightly at that.  
"A friend gave it to me." You replied, trying to change the subject.

"Don't lie, (Y/N). I know your beloved knight commander gave it to you."

Gulping as inaudibly as possible, you met Talia's celadon green eyes. "He won't get into trouble for this, will he?" Your uneasiness makes her chuckle. It was exceedingly hard to earn your trust, that much Talia knew; but she was not one to ever back down from a challenge. "No, of course not. It was given to him to do whatever he wished with it. Besides, it's not as if any of our enemy Houses would be able to do much with a Forrester handkerchief." Talia's casual mention of Royland being a traitor almost made your heart stop. He would never do such a thing! There had actually been a traitor in the House that year, so you were surprised that she would joke about it so lightly. Despite knowing she was joking, you still felt slightly riled up over it, but dismissed it as best you could.

Sitting down next to you, Talia looked up in thought, her hand cupping her chin. "When did he give it to you?" It was your turn to think. "Well, it was around eight months ago or so. I'd barely joined." She nodded.  
"Has he asked for it back since?" You shook your head. "I've brought it up many times, but he insists that he doesn't want it back." Eyes sparkling, Talia jumped up, and clutched both of your hands.

"A dowry gift!" She cheered, forcing you to dance with her in energetic circles. What on earth was she spouting now? There was no way Royland intended the gesture to mean… _that_. "W - What are you blabbering about now, Talia?" Her only response is a smirk, before she pauses. "Perhaps there is hope for your unrequited love, after all." Pulling your hands away from her, you retake your seat on the fallen log. "You know it's true, (Y/N)! Giving someone a handkerchief is nothing short of a dowry gift. Although, it's _usually_ the _woman_ who bestows such a gift. He doesn't seem like the kind of man who'd risk looking effeminate, even for someone he loves."

"That's why I'm telling you, you're making things up! There is no way that Royland intended giving me his handkerchief to be seen in that way. It was a kind gesture, is all. He knows I don't have much money."

"Well, it's either that, or you're very lucky, and you mean a lot more to him than you first thought." You get up to leave. "Stop it, Talia. I understand that this is all fun and games to you, but giving me hope just makes things harder for me." With those parting words, you begin to leave, only stopping before you exit the clearance. "We can resume your training tomorrow. For now, I'm going home."  
Without waiting for a reply, you start your trek home, leaving a guilty Talia in your wake.


	5. Chapter 5: Anniversary

"The main attraction finally arrives!" Talia greets you by linking arms. "What's all this?" You asked, confusedly. You should have known something was going on when you were asked by Rodrik personally to visit the main House that night.

"Well, someone decided to throw you a two year anniversary party!" Furrowing your brows, you tried to think of who - other than Talia - would host such a thing, and what it could be for.

"Second anniversary of what?" You ask, finally giving up after about a minute of Talia staring at you till she went cross-eyed.

"Do you not know? Oh dear! (Y/N), today marks two years since you became the deputy commander of the guard!" Itching the back of your neck awkwardly - a habit you had picked up from Royland - you sat down at the nearest table. "(Y/N)? Aren't you going to greet the guests?"

"Later," was your dismissive reply. "right now, I need a beer, and seems as I'm the honoured guest and all..."

"Fine! I'll go buy you one. Just make sure you stay here, okay? I'll be back in a few minutes." Nodding to her irritated babble, you lean back on your chair and scan the hall. There are lots of people here, from young to old. Everyone was dressed up, and you felt rather out of place. Surely they did not come here for you; it was just another party, after all. What would the Forresters have done if you hadn't showed up? It's not like they could advertise it without you finding out about it. Oh well. None of that mattered now anyway.

"Good day Milady," Shifting in your seat, you turned to see the man you'd harboured feelings for, for nearly three years now. "Royland. What a pleasant surprise."

"Hey! Who do you think organised this?" You were dumbstruck. Had he really? But why? Pulled away from your racing thoughts, you felt his bare, calloused hands touch yours. "Will you give me the honour of a dance?"

What could you say? Your heart was pounding rapidly, as you became more aware of how out of place you felt, more aware of your feelings for him, and more aware of how bad your dancing skills actually were. Noticing your discomfort, Royland released your hands (making you almost want to protest) and sat opposite you at the table.

"I understand. Let's get some alcohol in our systems. What's a party without that, eh?"

"Actually, Talia was going to get me a drink."

"Hey, don't worry about it. Besides, wouldn't you rather have two free drinks than one?" You shrugged awkwardly. You never liked 'free' things. There was usually a catch. But you knew you could trust Royland. The worst issue was how you became more conscious of how attracted you were to him. His rugged jawline, his facial scars, his slightly weathered characteristics, and small laugh lines that came with age. You wanted to kiss all of them.

"Will you come up to the bar with me?" Royland looked worried, as if he'd asked you multiple times without a reply. "Sure, but why?"

Royland itched his neck. "I don't want to leave you alone. I know that it may sound stupid, but there are a lot of people here - many of which do not know you - and I am afraid that if they do, you'll be taken away from me."

"What do you mean by that?" You asked. This was extremely out of character for your commander. Did he really want you for himself? Even if it was in a colleague sort of way.

"I'll tell you in due time, Milady. Now, onto the drinks. What would you like?" He changed the subject with such casual ease. Hopefully this wasn't something he was used to.

"A beer, please." Royland smiled at that. "Ah, yes. I take it you're no lightweight?"

"What gave you that idea?"

"Just a hunch." Says Royland, tapping the side of his nose, as if he was keeping a secret.

Returning to your table, you see Talia out of the corner of your eye, waving you over.

"I'm sorry Royland, but may I be excused for a moment?" He nods and then chuckles. "Of course. As long as you come back."

Leaving your seat, you walk up to Talia. In one fluid motion, she pulls you by the wall, and you both blend in with the wallflowers. "(Y/N)! I can't believe it!"

"What?"

"Royland is finally making a move! He sure took his time."

"What do you mean, Talia?"

"He's the one who suggested this party, (Y/N)! And he's finally approached you. That must count for something, right? He's actually trying to get to know you." Taking time to process her words, your eyes began to sparkle.

"Talia. Do you really think I have a chance?" She gives you a forceful 'pat' on the back.

"Of course! To me, it's as clear as day that he likes you! I've been so frustrated for these past two years because both of you are too timid to approach each other for casual talks. I know the troops gossiped about you, but that was years ago! They're over it. And those who aren't are isolated by the others, so it isn't a problem." You shrugged.

"Okay. I'm going back to the table now. He said I seem like I can hold my alcohol; we'll see."

Sitting in front of him, you sipped your tankard of beer. "So, Royland, where are you from? It's hard to believe I've been working with you for nearly three years, and I barely know anything about you." A sadness glazed his eyes. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." You remarked quickly. He shook his head.

"No, you have a right to know." Quirking an eyebrow, you leaned your elbows over the table, chin cupped in your hands. "A right?" You teased. "From who?"

"From me." Royland answered dryly. "I'm giving you the right to know about me." You chuckled at that.

"I'm flattered." Were you trying too hard to flirt with him? Oh well, he didn't seem to be catching on, either way.

"I grew up in Westeros, by the sea. We moved around a lot, because there was never any work. Even if there was, it would always run dry eventually. Kayce was the last place we moved to. We stayed there for many years. Then, during Balon Greyjoy's rebellion, they were murdered by Ironborn raiders. No, that's not even the right word; they were defenceless in their own home. It was slaughter." He took a swig of his drink, and then held his head in his hands.

"Ever since then, I've always wished I'd stayed home that day." Reaching over the table, you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "I'm so sorry, Royland... But I'm glad you're safe. And, it's not your fault the raiders came, or that you weren't there. You didn't know." He pushed your hand away. "It's fine. I've heard it all before. I'm a grown man now; I need to leave the past behind me." He looks into your eyes earnestly, his coffee-coloured irises glazed over with tears. "I had been taught swordplay in Kayce. If I was home, I could've saved them." As much as you wanted to console him, you could tell that it wouldn't do any good. He wanted to vent to you now, plainly and clearly, without being served up a platter of lies to make him feel better. He'd heard it all before anyway.

Chugging down the rest of his beer, he stands up. "Another?" He asks. You nod, and stand up to go with him. "No, I'll get it, (Y/N). You stay here. Mingle with the guests, if you want. I understand I haven't been the best company tonight."

You shake your head in protest. "That's not true. I'm glad I've learnt more about you." Royland laughs weakly. "What, that I'm actually a boring old man after all?" Prepared to say he's wrong again, you stop yourself when you feel his hand touch the top of your head.  
"I'm joking. Thank you for listening, (Y/N)."

Watching as he walks away, you sigh. You could barely believe it. He had been through some serious hardship in his life, but he didn't let it get in the way of moving forward. Even if he still blamed himself, he had ended up being knighted by King Robert I Baratheon, and had become Ironrath's master-at-arms at the request of Lord Gregor Forrester. He must've had a lot of visible potential and skill to get so far in so little time - a tragedy followed by a blessing.

"Good evening Deputy Commander," Looking up, you saw the naturally beautiful face of Elaena Glenmore, Rodrik Forrester's wife. "Good evening Milady," You bowed your head to her. She smiled warmly. "How are you enjoying the party? It is being held in your honour, after all."

"I am enjoying the atmosphere, Milady. It is still hard to take in how many people have showed up." Nodding kindly, she placed her small hand on your shoulder. "I would like to congratulate you on being the first female deputy commander in all of Westeros. You truly are an inspiration to all the women out there who are downgraded for what they were born with - and I thank you for taking the time to train Talia. She may not make it obvious, but you are her hero." Her words bring a small smile to your lips.  
"I'll keep that in mind, Milady."  
"Well, I bid you farewell, Deputy Commander. I hope you enjoy the festivities." Before you can respond, Elaena had disappeared into the crowd. Come to think of it, no one had approached you tonight other than Talia, Royland and Elaena - but there were so many people! Were they really here for you?

Royland returned shortly after, with four tankards in hand. "What's all this for?" You asked, taking two from him. Settling in front of you, Royland smiled unusually impishly. "I decided after our tense chat, we could have a drinking competition."

"Fair enough." You reply, shrugging. "How do we know when someone's won?"

"Whoever collapses first, of course." You smirk at that. "You're on."

"And the loser has to pay for all the drinks."

So much for free drinks.


	6. Chapter 6: Drunkard

After three drinks, both of you were pleasantly tipsy. "Before we continue, may I have this dance?" You smirked. "Why, old man? Scared you're going to lose?" Royland smiled, but shook his head.

"Not particularly." He stood up, and held his hand out to you. "I'd just rather remember this part of the evening." His warm brown eyes radiated honesty and earnest. You had never seen so many different sides of Royland till now; this was definitely a good thing.

Your attention was brought to his short white tunic, worn with a thick chestnut belt. His attire wasn't overly-formal, but it suited him just fine - he was not an overly-formal person, after all. Donning black trousers with dark brown boots added to the outfit's simplicity; but Royland still gave off a sophisticated vibe. You loved it.

Taking his longing hands, you stood up, allowing Royland to guide you to the middle of the dance hall. Feeling slightly nervous, with possibly every pair of eyes in the room staring at you, relaxation fills you somewhat when you felt Royland squeeze your hand in encouragement. Unfortunately, it was short-lived, as you realised once again that you were still wearing your armour, and felt even more self-conscious than before; but Ser Royland did not seem to mind its cold metallic edges, nor its bulkiness. Perhaps he had surpassed tipsy already?

Delicately guiding your hands around his shoulders, Royland held his hands loosely around your waist, and as you two gazed into each other's eyes, the hired band began to play a soft, slow tune, and the both of you became acutely more aware of the other couples around you, making their way onto the dance floor.

But they didn't matter. All that mattered to you in this moment was that you were in the arms of the man you loved - even if he was unaware of it. You wanted this time to last forever, no matter how cliche it sounded. Would you ever tell him your feelings? Only time could tell.

Noticing your concentration on him was wavering as you began getting lost in thought, Royland tightened his grip around you - not painfully so, but so that you felt more secure, and knew that you would not be separated from him easily. As the music played on, you stepped closer to him than before, and made the bold move of burying your face in the crook of his neck. Feeling his unexpectedly caring hands stroke your head in a slow, repetitive and unexpectedly affectionate motion surprised you, but it was not an unwelcome luxury. It seemed to be something that he was doing more for himself rather than your benefit; as if he needed comforting for some reason. Pulling you closer in a brisk but careful motion - as if you would break if he were to be rough with you - he rested his head against your shoulder gently and held you a little more tightly.

As you both swayed to the music, feeling a sense of completion as you were pressed up against each other, you secretly wished that this moment would never end. But, of course, like all good things, the song did come to an end; but that didn't stop Royland from holding onto you for an extra ten seconds even after the music stopped. Once he broke away, he looked to the side and started itching the back of his neck in his self-conscious habit.

"Let's finish the game." Royland uttered, refusing to meet your eyes as you both returned to your table.

Just over an hour and eight tankards of beer later, Royland was extremely drunk, and could barely stand up by himself, his vision a blur and his voice a slur. You had never seen the knight commander in such a state in all two years and ten months of working under him, and to say it was a surprise was a huge understatement. He started to yell and flail about the party, making some guests laugh, while others looked down in disgust or snorted in disapproval. As you sat in awe of the spectacle before you, Talia tapped your shoulder. Turning to her, you noticed her scheming look right away. What was she planning?

"(Y/N), _darling_ , I know this party is dedicated to you and all, but would you please do House Forrester the honour of escorting the Lord's sentinel to his quarters?" Sighing at the request, you brushed your hand through your hair before nodding. "Of course, Lady Talia."

Walking across the room to your drunkard commander, you put an arm around his shoulder. "Oh, (Y/N)! Thank the Gods you're here! This party's been _bollocks_ since you left." You chuckled slightly. Just because you weren't in his line of vision, he'd thought you'd decided to leave without telling him. You felt flattered at his comment and relished in his new-found attachment to you.

"Don't worry, Royland. I'd never leave you." You flirted shamelessly, but you weren't afraid anymore. If Talia was right, he was interested in you to some extent, and if he wasn't, it didn't matter anyway. He probably wouldn't remember anything by dawn.

"Come on, Royland. Let's take you to your quarters. The party's over now." Oblivious to your blatant lie, Royland smiled triumphantly. "I knew it all along! After you left-" He continued to babble - somewhat incoherently - as you escorted him to House Forrester's sentinel quarters. You nodded or shook your head now and again to what you could make out, feeling his clouded chocolate eyes gaze upon you.

"Here we are." You said. "Have you got your key with you?" Nodding, Royland tried to balance by himself as he reached into both of his trouser pockets, nearly falling over. You supported him again by holding him from the side before he toppled over. "I never knew you'd touch me with every chance you get, (Y/N)." Remarked Royland, winking fondly at you. You blushed slightly, looking away from him in embarrassment as he unlocked his door. "Now be a dear and help me into bed before the walls start spinning again."

Obeying, you closed the door behind both of you and led him to his bed, pulling the blankets to the bottom of it as you helped him lie down. Seeing him struggle to reach his shoes, you pulled them off for him and removed his clammy white socks. "Thank you, (Y/N). You're a dear... no wonder I like you." Resembling a tomato, pushed to the edge of Elaena Glenmore's plate, with your blush, you tried to ignore his drunken comment and pulled the blankets over him. "Tuck me in and tell me a bedtime story!" He whined. You giggled awkwardly at his childish remark. Who was this person and what had they done with the real Royland?

You sat on the side of his bed, as he snuggled under the blankets, an earnest twinkle in his eyes visible, even in the dark. "I think I'd better light a candle before any of that." Looking dejected, he watched as you lit the candle on his bedside cabinet. You felt arms snake their way around your waist, and looked down to see his tunic-clad arms and large, robust hands. "I love you.." He muttered sleepily into your back. What?

There is no way that just happened. You must be hearing things. Your thoughts were overruled when you heard him repeat the words again. No way. He must have been referring to someone else, right? Mistaking you for the love of his life in his drunken stupor. Yeah, that's it. There's no way he'd say that to you. This was all a side effect of the fair amount of alcohol you had ingested, and wishful thinking. That had to be it.

 **"I love you, (Y/N)."**

You felt like your heart would stop. There was no way you shared the name of someone he loved... unless he really did mean you. He would've told you if you shared the name of someone anyway; or at least, you assumed so. Trying to remove his arms from around you, he tightened his grip. "No! Don't... leave me." He'd misinterpreted your action. All you wanted to do was turn around and embrace him for yourself, but you sighed as you accepted he wouldn't let go. "My armour is digging into you, Royland."

"I don't care." After struggling for a while, you finally managed to pry him off of you, and laid him back on his pillow and stroked his hair as he accepted his defeat. Hearing him whimper, you held his hand in yours, and listened as his breaths began to become deeper and longer. Ten minutes later, you were sure he was asleep, and left to get him a cup of water for when he woke up. After returning, you placed the cup carefully on the cabinet beside his bed, and watched as he slept peacefully. He looked adorable in a childish way, but his rugged and mature charm still remained. After blowing the candle out, you left a prolonged kiss on his forehead, and drew his curtains. Taking his room key, you locked his door from the outside, and then pushed it under the door for him to find in the morning.

As you walked down the staircase, your fingers found themselves on your lips. Had Royland really meant you? Only time would tell. After walking in the cold night air, you went back to the party to bid everyone farewell before leaving; the party was dedicated to you, after all. You were glowing with happiness despite your tired demeanour, and Talia gave you a knowing glance before you left to turn in for the night.


	7. Chapter 7: Tavern

After reaching your house, you got changed into your night clothes and tried to clear your head. The party had been a lot more eventful than you had anticipated, and you were still feeling exultant and intoxicated from it. You couldn't stop thinking about Royland and his slurred words, and all the different sides of him you'd seen that night.

Thinking back on it, he'd been acting differently towards you even before the drinking game had commenced. What could this mean? It was clear that he was trying to make an effort of some sort when he'd approached you in the first place, even having to decency to offer you a free drink. What surprised you most, however, was that he'd asked you to dance with him; his actions had seemed desperate and needy, which was the polar opposite of the way he normally acted. But the icing on the cake was truly when you found out that the party had been planned at his suggestion all along.

As you replayed the night's events in your mind, trying to get to sleep had become more trouble than it was worth. If you weren't already sure of it, you could now confirm that you were undoubtedly and hopelessly in love with Royland - your superior. And he also had an interest in you.

You were overjoyed by this knowledge, and didn't know what to do. It was the early hours of the morning, and you were buzzing with energy. The idea of going out for a stroll or a jog didn't particularly pique your interest, no matter how tempting it may have been. Instead, you decided to do some warm up exercises to burn some energy. Your home was by no means big, but you had just about enough space to move without incident.

After forty-five minutes or so, you were finally beginning to feel tired, so you lay down on your uncomfortable, threadbare cot, and allowed a deep, dreamless sleep take you.

Loud knocking awoke you from your surprisingly peaceful slumber. What time was it? This was strange, really. You'd never had anyone knock for you; not since you'd moved. After brushing your hair quickly so it looked slightly more presentable, you opened the door.

There stood the man you'd spent all night pining for, wearing the same attire as before. As soon as he saw you, he enveloped you in a strong, bearlike embrace. Trying to hide your shock, you hesitantly returned the gesture. "Royland, I didn't expect to see you again so soon." Royland replied by gently caressing your hair, just as he had done last night.

"You make it sound as if you don't want me here." He replied, half-jokingly. No matter how much he tried to mask it behind his humour, you still saw the tinge of fear in his warm eyes. The fear of rejection.

"You know I didn't mean it like that." Tightening your grip around his torso, you nestled your head into his chest for a moment, before returning his gaze. The smell of last night's beer still lingered on him, and the usual potent scent his tarnished skin possessed seemed to power through more than usual. You could not stop your eyes from tracing the mannishly charming features upon his face, as you looked up at him.

"I had to see you. After last night... I would like to apologise for the trouble I caused you." Pulling away slightly, he moved his hands up to your shoulders, and regarded your smaller form lovingly. "However, I would not like to apologise for my feelings. I understand that you probably do not feel the same, with the age gap and all,"

"Royland." You interrupted.

"you're young, you should go out there and find yourself a young man or woman who has many years ahead of them such as yourself, and-"

"Royland!" His speech ceased, and his attention was diverted slightly; more towards the floor. Glad to finally silence him, you sighed in relief, and brought your hands up to his own, which were slightly gnarled with age.

"Royland, I don't care. I love you. I don't care if you're older than me. I want to spend my life with you, as more than a subordinate. If things eventually don't work out, we can take that as it comes, but right now, I'd rather just be with you."

Your words clearly shocked him. "A - Are you certain? Even so, you'd do a lot better with someone within your age range. For example, a fellow knight-"

"You know, knight commanders with the name 'Royland Degore' are more my style." Royland tried to conceal his constantly deepening blush with half-hearted frustration.

"But (Y/N)-"

"Royland. I don't care what you, or anyone else thinks is better for me. As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I know what is best for me right now, and even if I turn out to be wrong in the long run, I don't care. I want to be happy, and take chances whenever I can, in the short amount of time I have to live in this world. It would be such a waste for us to not give this relationship a shot, when our feelings are mutual. Right now, I know I'll be happiest with you."

Gulping back the lump in his throat at your passionate defiance, Royland questioned you one last time. "It is a gamble that you're taking here. I don't want you to feel pressured because you think it'll hurt my feelings, or result in a demotion, or-" He was cut off by your luscious lips meeting his chapped, albeit virile ones. The kiss was chaste and brief, but it was enough to make Royland go weak in the knees.

"I've been waiting nearly three years for this, Royland. I'm sure this is what I want. You aren't pressuring me at all, and I hope you don't feel pressured, either. I won't regret this." Finally accepting defeat, Royland fervently embraced you again, this time burying his face into your hair, inhaling your voluptuous scent greedily. Your stubbornness had actually been one of the many things that had drawn him to you, because you were the only one who could match him - sometimes even best him - in that department.

"I love you, (Y/N)." Smiling sincerely, with a jubilant glint in your eyes, you reached up on your tiptoes and planted a light kiss on one of his stubbly cheeks. "I love you too."

Deciding to treat you to breakfast, Royland walked with you down the dirt paths, arm-in-arm. You couldn't help but notice the feeling of heartwarming comfort you felt whenever you were with him, and how your limbs seemed to intertwine perfectly. "Royland, what time is it?"

"Quarter past ten, last time I checked." Your calm demeanour was now oxymoronic, as you felt panic enter your brain and spread signals throughout your whole body. "Oh no! Royland, we're late for training!" Chuckling at your statement, he kissed you on the top of your head fondly. "Hey! What was that for? What's so funny?!"

"I cancelled it."

"You what?!" You exclaimed, unable to contain your surprise.

"I wanted to see you. Besides, I made a fool of myself last night - according to Lord Rodrik himself - and you helped me out of it, so I had to thank you. I was no shining example to the troops under my guidance. Hopefully, they will work harder after being given the luxury of this short break. However, the training schedule will resume tomorrow morning. I cannot have my soldiers lacking in discipline or skill."

Nodding, you couldn't help feeling flattered. Even if you weren't the sole reason for it, Royland had cancelled training for the first time since you'd started working under him, to spend time with _you_. He was not an easily embarrassed man by any means, and most of the knights-in-training were terrified of him, so he knew they wouldn't bring up his actions of the night prior.

You felt silly, relishing in the fact he'd slacked off for you, but it's not like you were going to tell him, so you didn't worry about it.

Royland escorted you to a rowdy tavern situated close to the village. However, its everyday loudness ceased in its entirety as you entered through its shabby wooden door, arm linked with the infamously strict and draconian knight commander.

Royland walked you towards the table he occupied whenever he visited, although that was never often. It always seemed to be deserted, so that was where he always sat. Pulling your chair out for you, he made sure you were seated before he took his place opposite you.

"What would you like to eat?" He asked, aiming his full attention towards you.

"Uhm, whatever you'd recommend, I suppose... I've never been here before." Royland chuckled.

"I suppose that is a fair point, although I can't help but feel as if you've never been to a tavern before at all."

Blushing at the precision of his remark, you averted your gaze embarrassedly. You never had much money after you'd paid for basic necessities, and it was not as if you had any friends whom you could go out with anyway. Your incredible skill had granted you an intimidating exterior, according to fellow knights and others. Although this was rather positive - especially for a young woman such as yourself - it came with the price of being isolated from the majority of social environments, with locals and the like.

Royland's eyes widened slightly as he came to the realisation that his jest had struck true, and gently reached for your hand across the old table.

"No matter. If you stick with me, we can have all sorts of new experiences together, I assure you of that."

You inwardly curse yourself as you read into his comment more suggestively than you should've, and look down as your cheeks became redder.

"I - Look, I didn't mean it like that, and you know it. So don't make it out like I'm an old pervert." You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, feeling scrutinized and judged, but also surprised at how quick he was to catch on. Feeling embarrassed himself (but hiding it well), he resumed to a standing position, looking resolute.

"I'll go and order the food now." With that, he turned around and headed towards the bar. You felt awkward but also sad. You felt as if you'd made him uncomfortable, even if it wasn't your intention. 'It's all his fault anyway for being able to read people so easily,' you thought jokingly.

As the door to the tavern opened with an aggressive slam, your attention was brought to the small figure of your young companion.

"Talia?" You questioned, barely believing what you were seeing. Her expression changed as she saw you, smiling energetically and waving at you.

"Hey, (Y/N)! I heard you had the first day off in history, so I was looking for you!" She sat opposite you, now occupying Royland's seat.

"So, where is he?" You tilted your head towards the bar in indication. "I knew it! I just knew something had happened between you two!" She stood up and pranced to your side of the table, grasping your hands in hers, a palpable impishness displayed in her grin. "You're so lucky to have someone who loves you and will look after you! You and Elaena both!"

You shushed her desperately, but she either ignored you or was too caught up in her moment of excitement to notice.

"I wonder when I'll meet someone?! Will it be a Lord of another House, or a charming street beggar?! Perhaps a hunter, or a ship captain? Oh, there's so many choices! I do hope I find my match soon!"

Her frivolity had caught the attention of everyone present in the tavern, especially Royland himself, but he chose not to intervene.

"Talia, will you quieten it down a little?" You hissed, feeling anxious as you felt about twenty-two different pairs of eyes gazing upon you. She stuck her tongue out in defiance.

"Hey, that's easy for you to say! Your life's made! You're already so high in the rankings, and now you're with the man of your dreams! I feel so left out these days, you know. Everybody around me is growing up and having fun, taking on important and mature roles. I've got a lot of growing up to do."

She may have sounded bratty or spiteful to an outsider, but you knew that she was just speaking her mind, and did not intend to offend nor irritate you with her words. After knowing her for years, you had adjusted to her eccentric outbursts, and sometimes even appreciated them. She was always honest during them, and could give you an unbiased opinion on questions you'd ask.

"Do you really think Royland and I will last?"

Talia giggled. "Well, why don't you ask him that for yourself? He's right behind you, (Y/N)!"

You felt your face go slightly pale. What you'd said hadn't been particularly bad, but you still felt as if it could upset him.

However, you felt a big warm hand stroke the back of your head repetitively. You shivered as you felt warm breath tickle the back of your neck, and edge closer towards your ear.

"I won't force you into anything, lass. This - whatever it is - can last for as long as you wish. I am at your disposal."

Talia gave you a questioning look, especially as your face was painted with ruby encrusted roses, but did not press the matter. "I should be leaving now. Thanks for the day off, Royland! (Y/N) needs a break every once in awhile. I'll see you two lovebirds later." Talia winked and blew a kiss flirtily at you, leaving you with the remark, "You'd better keep (Y/N) safe Royland, or I just might have to be the one to snatch her off of you."

You shuffled in your seat, unable to respond. Royland gave you a confident yet comforting half smile, and patted your arm. "Although I didn't need the encouragement, I'll now work harder to become the one that is most worthy of you." Bringing his hand up to your face at your own accord, you smiled as you nuzzled him affectionately.

"But Royland, you already are."


End file.
